Spideychelle one-shots

Dear Journal (Pt. 7)

"Yes," Peter said shortly. Then, "The fire exits," and he turned and started running down the stairs, towards the stage. 

A middle-aged woman who MJ recognized as one of the organizers had clearly had the same idea and was using one of the mics to try to direct people to the fire exits. It was mostly in vain; people were so panicked that the obvious exit, even though it seemed to be leading closer to the emergency, was the only one they wanted to use. 

People were starting to catch on, though, and by the time Peter and MJ made to the stage they had a small group of people, mostly students, following them.

Peter reached the heavy metal door first, the neon red lights spelling exit flickering eerily in the shadows of the stage. He heaved at the door, then looked for some way to prop it open. The smoke was getting thicker and some of the kids and adults at the back of the crowd were starting to cough.

MJ looked at Peter. There was a look of determination and righteousness on his face that she'd never seen before. 

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"You go ahead," Peter said, letting go of her hand. She'd pulled out of the swarm of people funneling through the door that Peter was still holding open, not willing to leave him.

MJ coughed, feeling the smoke in her lungs. Someone had been smart enough to close the doors at the top of the auditorium, but even so, the room was quickly filling up with smoke and it was getting hotter.

"You remember the way, right?" Peter asked. "Through this hallway, then there's a door marked exit that will - "

" - Lead me outside, I know." MJ clutched his arm. "My parents went over the emergency exits with me probably a hundred times. And I'm not leaving you."

"I'm not letting you put yourself in danger again," Peter said, face serious. "Besides, all I'm doing is holding the door open. It'll be fine." 

The woman MJ saw before, the one who was directing people to the exits, passes. 

"Go," Peter says, low and serious. "I'll be fine." 

MJ thinks of her parents, getting the call that no parent ever should. Waiting in the hospital for her to wake up, knowing that she had been shot and there was nothing they could do about it. 

She couldn't do that again.

"Be careful," she says to Peter, before turning and running through the door. She's lost in the crush of people; someone the smoke seems worse in the hallway, and when she recalls the layout she thinks that it probably connects to the entranceway, where the fire must be. 

There's a crush of people at the door leading to the outside. With no one to hold the door open like Peter did, the door is swinging shut and hitting people. MJ rubs her stinging eyes. She can hear sirens and people screaming. 

When she makes it to the door, she grabs it and holds it open. She breaths in the fresh air coming from outside, trying to stay out of the way of the mass of people still making their way out. The crush lessens to a trickle and the smoke thickens so that she can barely see the door to the auditorium. 

Where is Peter? He should be here. She knows that. What if he fell, or... 

No. 

She can't think like that. 

She's having trouble breathing now, but she won't leave without Peter. She won't. She pulls the collar of her button up shirt over her mouth and nose and releases the door, which closes with a thud behind her. She stumbles towards the door to the auditorium.